Hector recognized him.  It was his oldest friend, a college mate; they had once been very intimate, but the count not finding the other fast enough for him, had little by little dropped his intimacy, and had now lost sight of him for two years.

“Sauvresy!” he exclaimed, stupefied.

“Yes,” said the young man, hot, and out of breath, “I’ve been watching you the last two minutes; what were you doing here?”

“Why—­nothing.”

“How!  What they told me at your house this morning was true, then!  I went there.”

“What did they say?”

“That nobody knew what had become of you, and that you declated to Jenny when you left her the night before that you were going to blow your brains out.  The papers have already announced your death, with details.”

This news seemed to have a great effect on the count.

“You see, then,” he answered tragically, “that I must kill myself!”

“Why?  In order to save the papers from the inconvenience of correcting their error.”

“People will say that I shrunk—­”

“Oh, ’pon my word now!  According to you, a man must make a fool of himself because it has been reported that he would do it.  Absurd, old fellow.  What do you want to kill yourself for?”

Hector reflected; he almost saw the possibility of living.

“I am ruined,” answered he, sadly.

“And it’s for this that—­stop, my friend, let me tell you, you are an ass!  Ruined!  It’s a misfortune, but when a man is of your age he rebuilds his fortune.  Besides, you aren’t as ruined as you say, because I’ve got an income of a hundred thousand francs.”

“A hundred thousand francs—­”

“Well, my fortune is in land, which brings in about four per cent.”

Tremorel knew that his friend was rich, but not that he was as rich as this.  He answered with a tinge of envy in his tone: 

“Well, I had more than that; but I had no breakfast this morning.”

“And you did not tell me!  But true, you are in a pitiable state; come along, quick!”

And he led him toward the restaurant.

Tremorel reluctantly followed this friend, who had just saved his life.  He was conscious of having been surprised in a distressingly ridiculous situation.  If a man who is resolved to blow his brains out is accosted, he presses the trigger, he doesn’t conceal his pistol.  There was one alone, among all his friends, who loved him enough not to see the ludicrousness of his position; one alone generous enough not to torture him with raillery; it was Sauvresy.

But once seated before a well-filled table, Hector could not preserve his rigidity.  He felt the joyous expansion of spirit which follows assured safety after terrible peril.  He was himself, young again, once more strong.  He told Sauvresy everything; his vain boasting, his terror at the last moment, his agony at the hotel, his fury, remorse, and anguish at the pawnbroker’s.